Anger

Anger.  What is it?  It’s a feeling, I know.  A powerful one. The most powerful one, it seems.  People do powerful things when they are angry. They lash out physically.  Fists come up, doors get slammed, cars swerve, weapons are brandished. When we are angry we lash out verbally.  Voices get raised. Insults, slurs, even curse words get used. Anger is so powerful it can spin out of our control.  We move to say and do things that we quickly regret. In that moment of anger, we feel entitled to say and do whatever occurs to us.  Our body fills up with adrenaline and cortisol and our brain pumps blood away from the gut and into the muscles. This all happens quickly. 

Recently a friend of mine suggested that anger is a good emotion and that there is a time and place for it.  I have heard this before and not thought anything of it. But on this day it did not sit well with me. What exactly is anger and what is its purpose?

The feeling of anger triggers the “fight or flight” response that is historically helpful to humans when encountering the threat of pain.  Outside of natural disasters, these threats for early people included predatory animals and other humans. But if I am about to be attacked by a tiger or another human my first and most powerful feeling is fear and not anger. I have not been attacked by a tiger lately. Or ever. But fear, worry, stress, and anxiety are all words that would not only match my response to an attack but also a response to many things I encounter in the modern world. These feelings are not triggered by tigers or invading parties, but by thoughts I have about a real or perceived threat of pain, either physical or emotional. I interpret, evaluate, and assess situations to be threatening pain to me.  This, in turn, triggers the rush of blood and hormones that prompt me to yell, to hit, to lash out. My body is so physically primed to fight a tiger that I must act on it. So I slam a door, shout an obscenity. And when I do, I have somehow dealt with something very real and I actually feel, at least physically, relieved. Better. I have defended myself by attacking whoever I perceive as a threat of pain.  And feeling better is so intoxicating. And that intoxication is like a drug to our brains.  

Instead of having the feeling of being frustrated about getting woken up by a neighbor’s car alarm, I get mad.  I huff out of bed to slam my window shut. Instead of feeling worried that I don’t have enough money to pay my bills, I yell at my son for his messy room.  Instead of dealing with so many stressors and anxieties of modern life, I blow up someone’s Twitter feed with aggressive comments, I cut someone off on the freeway with my middle finger up.  Frustrated, worried, stressed and anxious are feelings that must be processed. I prefer the quick hit of anger.  

So do we need anger?  Despite the constant flood of adrenaline and cortisol wreaking havoc with our adrenal systems and hearts, what is it really doing for us?  What if we addressed the thoughts that are changing our perceived fears into real tigers, that changes us into real tigers? Can this be done?  Can we wean ourselves off this powerful drug? There was a time in my life where I not only couldn’t imagine my life without anger, I didn’t want to.  I enjoyed the high I got off of fighting. I fed off the intoxication my self-righteousness brought me after an altercation. I felt like it gave my brain a workout that it needed.  I was addicted. And in some ways I still am. But I don’t want to be.

So get ready sadness, frustration, guilt, shame, anxiety, helplessness, hunger.  There are some new thoughts coming your way. I can’t imagine that I will miss the tigers.  I can only imagine that my body and mind will be relieved and there will be room for even more pleasant and beneficial emotions.  Happiness? Joy? It’s worth a shot.